


Headache

by quaint_camera



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Chair Sex, Frottage, Happy Ending, Headaches & Migraines, Kitchen Sex, M/M, One Shot, Telekinesis
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-20
Updated: 2012-01-20
Packaged: 2017-10-29 20:18:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/323759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quaint_camera/pseuds/quaint_camera
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Just a headache. That was all it took.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Headache

**Author's Note:**

> Found an old drabble. It started speaking to me and wouldn't shut up till it was written. Love it when that happens. ^...-

"...Are you all right, Mohinder?"

 

He jerks his head at his companion in irritation. "Yes, I'll be fine in a moment. Just leave me alone! _Please!_ " he begs, fingers rummaging restlessly in dark, shiny curls as he prays for the pounding to stop. 

 

*******

 

The dark-eyed man is leaning back against the kitchen table, arms crossed, appraising gaze lingering on thick, rumpled curls and warm brown eyes in the chair across from him. "How do you feel?" he asks Mohinder.

 

He darkens with a blush, looking guilty. "Better," he says shortly. A small, apologetic smile curls his thinned pink lips, so charming. "I'm sorry. That was quite rude of me earlier. I didn't mean to yell."

 

A glassful of water and the proper medication was all it took to make the professor agreeable again? Unexpectedly simple.

 

The dark-eyed man hops down from his perch on the edge of the table. "I know you didn't mean to," he coos. "I'm just glad you're feeling better."

 

Mohinder's eyes flutter shut in relief.

 

Sylar grasps him gently by the chin to turn his head, pressing a smooch against his temple. Mohinder's skin shifts under his lips as he smiles--a flash of dazzling white teeth. He tilts his head up, hot brown eyes steady as he deliberately nips Sylar's bottom lip.

 

There is a small rumbly growl in Sylar's chest as he straddles Mohinder's lap and then just the breathless, urgent smack of lips on lips, muffled moans from Mohinder as belts and jeans are unclasped, fabric whipped back, chocolate and pale skin exposed.

 

Mohinder's head is thrown back, mouth stretched open in ecstasy, the length of his neck exposed, strained; curls shaking as Sylar rubs their lengths together in his fist--furious, focused, wild with lust. Silently they thrust back and forth, perfectly in tandem, hips adhering intuitively to some primal rhythm.

 

"Ah. Aah!  _Aaaaahh!_ " Mohinder climaxes first, spurting in what seems like every direction. He looks absolutely wrecked and extremely beautiful, so unlike the collected, compassionate scientist that then Sylar is cumming too, sticky liquid gushing up through his fingers in pleasant pulses.

 

They slump against each other, panting, emptied; cramped in the too-small kitchen chair, Sylar's chin digging into Mohinder's shoulder; Mohinder face-first against his chest.

 

Dimly, through his thunderous heartbeat, he can feel Mohinder's seed marking him, senses it cooling on his stomach, shoulder, cock... some on his cheek. He swipes a hand past his stubble and smiles, loving the sticky smear, musky scent, and grins. It's something he thought he'd never experience outside of his own fantasies.

 

When he catches his breath, he manuevers a limp, half-naked Mohinder into his arms and carries him to the bedroom to tuck him in, since he's already fast asleep.

 

*******

 

In the abandoned kitchen, an invisible force snags Mohinder's empty glass from the table and whisks it silently off to the kitchen sink.


End file.
